A Life Taken
by Doree
Summary: Before the dream, Suze Simon had an idea as to who she was and who her boyfriend was. But, when a truthshattering secret is revealed, and new rules and twists are at play, can she finally discover her true calling? ShortStorysubject to change?
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so you may have noticed that I deleated my previous stories…I appologize! But, recently, I reread those Fan Fictions and – for me – they didn't quite cut it. When I say 'didn't cut it' I mean they sucked. Really, they did. They were extremely undeveloped and there were so many grammical errors and other problems that I was actually embarrassed of them. Ha.**

**Well, anyway, here's a little somehting that has been brewing in my brain for some months now. I plan to make this once one-shot for a competion on MCBC into a short story. Hopefully this will surpass the Fan Fictions that I've written previously.**

**Sorry for the inconvience and with much love,**

**Licole**

Pink and white flower petals danced in the wind before me, alight as though gravity was null. However, when gravity was expressed, said blossoms fell beautifully. The mesh of petals blanketing the Mission grounds brought a smile to my face as I repositioned my body to lie on the Mission's rectory bench, cushioning my head with my hands. 

It was a quiet, very peaceful day; hands down, it was one of the best I'd experienced in the Carmel springtime. The usually bright and threatening sun couldn't taunt me from behind the leaves of the tree I was laying under, aside from the small slits of light shining through.

I sort of surprised myself to find that I had not chosen the beach for my place of relaxation, but stretching out here, on the bench, just felt…right.

I wasn't sure how long I was resting, looking up at the leaves and visible pieces of the sun through them, nevertheless it couldn't have been five minutes into my daydreaming that I heard a soft movement above my head. I turned on my side to see a ghost of a male, no older than 20 years of age.

Typically, ghosts who looked of this one's nature were seemingly kind, who - in reality - had a hidden agenda, or in time would sexually harass you when you tried to offer your help. But this one, on the other hand, had no unnatural awareness other than the bluish aura around him.

Well, at least none that I could see right away.

His gaze held a mosaic of various emotions that I could not place. Though they were deep, mysterious and aloof, I saw, his eyes were gentle and intelligent as well as loving. In all of this, someplace inside of me had the distinct feeling that the 'loving' part of his stare was only for me.

His clothing selection was definitely different; no doubt that it was at the height of its fashion-empire in the nineteenth century. Bizarre as it was his attire unquestionably brought out the best of the olive tinge in his skin tone, darkness of his hair, tall and fit form, and his dazzling smile. To add to his already mystifying presence I noticed that a grass blade-thin white scar resided his left eyebrow.

For reason unknown I felt my heart lurch happily in my chest, failing to keep a grin from asserting itself from my face.

I sat up instinctively to greet him with a soft, mundane peck on his lips. Then, as if it were an everyday thing, he tookmy hand in his. He lifted our hands up to his chin level before smiling down at me, and lead me into a slow dance.

If the conditions of this day weren't so perfect, I assure you, I would have found his urge to dance to no music a bit…off.

But, when the two of us began to move to the murmur of the breeze that tickled the tree leaves around us, time seemed to stop, leaving in me a sense of tranquility.

We stared into eachother's eyes as we twirled against the magenta petals that were still freefalling from the sky. We spun faster and faster, and we laughed and laughed until finally we slowed to a stop: Mother Nature had chosen that moment to completely end the gentally raining blossoms (they now fell heavily), dancing wind, and slight sighs of the grass and the trees. However, during these changes we did not let go of each other. 

Instead, he let go of the hand he was holding in the waltz positon to caress the side of my face and parts of my neck, while somewhat smiling sadly yet lovingly. Without thinking, I raised the now free hand to overlap his on my face.

I looked up at his six foot figure meaningfully, but I found nothing to say to this man who obviously loved me.

What was there to say to a stranger; a man such as the one standing in front of me?

Something tugged at me from inside. I couldn't figure out what it was there for, but I knew that what ever "it" was I knew it was from the heart. I recognized the emotion, though. It felt something like remorse, guilt, and…and sorrow?

Did I want to apologize to this man?

My heart dropped when I'd finally figured out what it'd been trying to tell me. I wanted to apologize…to utter a desperate 'I miss you'.

While my gut told me to come out with it, my mind drew a complete blank and unfortunately, no words came past my lips.

Even if I did find something to say I doubted that it would have mattered. My heart fell even further than the first time when I saw the man's saddened eyes and smile. 

I closed my own jade-green eyes as he cupped my face in his hands, and lent down to plant a small kiss on my forehead, then one on my lips. I only opened them when I felt his mouth leave mine.

A single tear fell down my cheek as he took a step back. He wiped away the tear with his thumb, a half-smile on his handsome face.

Slowly, he began to disappear into a pink and blue vapor. I, without thinking, reached out to grab ahold of him, but I was instead grasping air.

And just as leisurely as he did my surroundings slipped out of focus, and soon disappeared into darkness.

-&- 

I was suddenly alert, my source of awaking being the reason I jumped about a foot in the air.

"-And if Mrs. Simon would like everyone - as well as herself - to pass the THT's this March, she would do well to pay attention. Wouldn't you agree, Susannah?" 

I looked up from where I had been resting my head upon an open book, (With much difficulty, might I add) the pages sticking to the side of my face. I voiced a barely audible 'Sorry' for interrupting the lesson before naturally turning my attention and gaze to a familiar baby blue.

Paul's eyebrows were hiked up in bewilderment; a look that suited him extremely well.

"Everything okay?" he mouthed.

"I'll tell you about it outside." I replied using the same communication method.

A part of me was appreciative of my unexpected cat-nap; I realized about two minutes later that I hadn't missed much. Truthfully, I would have rather listened to Michel and Dominique's WHIMPERING than the History of French Language and its uses and "perks".

Even if the subject had been interesting, I doubted that I could keep my full concentration on it. I was still dazed by the dream I just had.

What did that mean? What did it have to do with anything? When I dream I know it usually implies things that have already happened, or turns out to be some weird, freaky-deque, deja vu. But, what happened in that dream never took place. Hell, I didn't even know who the guy was and I saw the two of us kissing as if we were lovers…kissing him like I kiss my own boyfriend.

Just thinking about another male's mouth on my own made me feel as if I'd cheated on my current devotee, even though it was an innocent fantasy. Or was it? A fantasy, I mean.

Everything that went down felt so real…his soft, caring, manipulative lips on mine…the feel of his silky black hair between my fingers. The rigid wall of muscles I felt through the soft cotton of his shirt…

I prayed that the class would end and soon. I seriously had too much time to answer and analyze every detail of the vision.

I'd never felt anything like it…I could feel - through the dream - my emotions. They were familiar in a way. I remembered having them at a time…but, then again, I felt new ones I hadn't felt.

And now that I'd recognized that I could feel these newfound…"emotions", my heart was trying to tell me something…

"Remember", it seemed to stress to me, except I couldn't…it just wasn't possible. Remembering something that never happened, I mean.

…and it was seriously scarring me.

When Sister Mary-Rose finally signaled for us to let out, I made a silent prayer of thanks, gathered my things, and exited the classroom with CeeCee close behind.

"What was that about?" She asked me once we were out in the breezeway.

"What was what about, Cee?"

"That sudden case of drowziness. I mean, one minute we were passing notes about our devestatingly hot BF's, and then next, I look over and see you face down in your French History book."

"Oh, that. Uh..I was tired and caught a Z." I lied. About being really tired, I mean. I had actually had nine hours of sleep last night, and statistically, the average amount of hours a teen of my age needs daily is about 10 hours. So, I wasn't too far off with the nine as apposed to the perfered amount.

But, yeah, I had enough sleep. Before I'd unexpectedly dozed off, I'd been perfectly wide awake.

Ah, ha! Random Narcoleptia. That's the only way I could describe my falling asleep in class. Nobody would believe this theory, but it was worth a shot.

Once we reached our lockers, CeeCee risked a glance around our surroundings before asking seriously, "Does it have anything to do with you fighting you-know-who's in the middle of the night?"

I was about to tell her 'no' when I saw a familiar face above the heads of other students, and I completely forgot about CeeCee and her question, as well as the confounded delusion I had in the classroom. 

When Paul was close enough, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him zealously. I couldn't help but sense a bit of unwillingness, on my part, as we kissed. It felt…wrong in a way…like I shouldn't be making out with Paul.

But why, though? He was my boyfriend after all…why shouldn't I? I didn't do anything wrong, and neither did he…right? Exactly.

Except the unwillingness was too strong, and thus I pulled away a moment later, forcing a smile to cover up my recoil.

"Mmm…what was that for?" He asked lazily, a small grin claiming is face. 

"Something to do." I shrugged. "What, you didn't like it?"

"Eh, I've had better." He joked, earning him a mock-punch in the arm from me.

"I hear ya, Slater…" Adam, out of the blue, appeared behind CeeCee with his arms tangled around her middle. "Mine's already started to lack in the lip-locking department, too. What do you think? Should we trade 'em out for new ones anytime soon?"

In response, my friend playfully jammed an elbow into Adam's stomach. "Ignore him. We'll catch up with you two at lunch, alright?" CeeCee giggled as Adam began to walk backwards with her still in his arms, planting little kisses along her neck.

When they were gone from view, I closed my locker and looped my fingers through Paul's, smiling all the while.

"So," he began. "Are you going to tell me about your sudden lack of energy, or do I have to figure it out by myself?"

As the image that I had forgotten swiftly returned, front and center in my mind, my small smile faded. I made a hurried, unplanned glance over to the Mission Academy's cemetery. 

My eyes landed on the empty rectory bench beneath the tree were I was laying in my dream; flower petals fell peacefully on the seat…just like I'd seen.

"Suze? You look like you've just seen a ghost…pun unintended." Paul said beside me. I saw him smirking in the corner of my eye, but after a moment he turned to look out into the blossom-infested garden/graveyard, too. "It is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah…" I said dizzily. Thoughts, questions, and other emotions laced through my brain trying to work out what I'd experienced. But the more I tried to figure things out, the more I got confused.

Just as I was about to put off the subject for a third time, a hunch formed in the back of my head:

…Could I – no, there was no way. I mean, sure there are some things that I haven't figured out, but surely I couldn't do that…could I? Can he?

Tearing my gaze away from the raining flora I took a quick look around. And just like I'd hoped, we were alone.

I circled to face Paul and said quietly, "Paul, as Shifters we can't go back in time, can we? Or, move forward in it?"

At that, he whipped around pinning me with a stare that I hadn't seen before; I saw amazement, surprise, and bewilderment in his baby-blues until he blinked, disappeared, and was replace by an unreadable one. 

What was that? I thought.

"What do you mean?" He inquired slowly and softly, his eyebrows knitting together and eyes narrowed slightly.

"I mean, can we look into the past…at previous lives or something?"

"Not that I've read," he said slowly. "Where is this coming from?"

Though I was kind of taken back by his ill humor, I told him all about the dream: From how perfect the day was, to dancing with an unknown ghost, kissing said ghost, my guilty conscious and grieving state, then finally the phantom's odd dematerialization.

To my mild surprise he said nothing during my spiel. But, I did notice through my story that with each word, Paul's face became grimmer and grimmer while his eyes grew colder, and more distant. To be honest, Paul looked murderous. I mean, really, like he wanted to kill someone.

Who? I didn't know…surely it wasn't about to be me…I did nothing wrong.

On second thought I probably had. I mean, what was up with this pang of guilt that I felt right now? Was it towards Paul because I dreamt about having intimacy with someone other than him, or was it towards the nameless ghost for something I shouldn't have done?

"What did he say to you?" He asked sharply, making me jump.

"Paul –" 

"What did he say to you?" He repeated sounding a bit more irritated than before.

I blinked up at him in surprise and bewilderment. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you getting angry with me?" I jabbed an angry finger my chest to emphasize the 'me' part.

Like he usually did when he became frustrated with me he ran a hand through his soft curls. "I'm not mad at you, Suze, I'm just – I need to know if de Silva said something to you, anything –"

"- de Silva?" I interrupted. "That was his name?"

De Silva…why did that name sound so familiar…more over, why did it send a warm fuzzy feeling pumping through my body -

"Paul, you knew who this man was in my dream? How -?"

"Suze, please," Paul pleaded crossly. "That's not the point –"

"Well, what do you want me to do?! How am I supposed to help you, if I don't know how? And besides, what do my dreams have to do with you?! You're lucky I told you anything, Paul!"

"You're right, you're right. I'm sorry," he sighed exasperatingly. "I shouldn't have jumped down your throat like that but, Suze, I – I can't tell you why I need to know. At least not right now. Just trust me!" he added sternly just as I opened my mouth to challenge his reason for not being able to tell me.

A moment of tense silence passed before I groaned in defeat. "If you have to know…neither of us said anything to each other. Are you happy now?" 

Paul's questioning baby-blues gazed into mine sharply and I shuddered slightly in effect.

He never looked at me like that…it worried me, and it took everything I had in me not to step backwards into the stone pillar behind me. What frightened me most was that I wasn't amazed or confused that this stare frightened me. It was almost as if I expected him to make me feel this way.

But, how though?! How when he'd never looked at me like that before today?!

I drew in a soundless breath, holding it in as we looked at each other. I felt my heartbeat race steadily faster.

For the longest time, all I could do was to be tortured by the smell of his cologne. It's sent drove me crazy as it frequently did; it rendered me speechless and stationary. I couldn't even blink and to my distress, he didn't do anything either.

He only stared as if searching to find some hidden answer within my eyes.

I soon found myself on the defensive…like I didn't want him to find anything that might reveal something more about the reverie, albeit, I already told him everything.

"You think I'm lying?" I whispered icily through gritted teeth.

At this point we were close enough to kiss. And I'm sure that had we not been in this predicament, or in we were in any other situation, we would have. 

He looked troubled as if trying to figure out if I would deceive him.

Does he not trust me? I thought angrily. But, while I contemplated this, his eyes returned to the gaze that I knew. This allowed me to inhale and exhale a bit more easily.

Too bad I couldn't say the same for my racing-heart and slight fright of his figure.

We stood like that for a good couple seconds. I'm sure if someone had passed through the long-empty breezeway they would have seen me stiff and probably pale, and my boyfriend across from me staring at me intensely, but thoughtfully.

Oh, it would look very weird indeed.

His name was the word I used to break the silence. His eyes snapped up to meet mine.

For a moment I saw something flicker in them, raising many questions as to what he was thinking. But as quickly as it appeared, the look was gone.

Paul stepped closer to me all the while putting an arm past my head for him to lean on the pillar I was now back-to-back with.

We were so close I could smell the mintiness of his tooth paste in sink with the cologne he wore.

The all memorable feeling of lust surged through my body; I was again, immediately impelled to grab handfuls of his shirt and pull him in for a kiss.

I was utterly craving for a lip-lock. But then again I had a strange urge to be flippant with him, push past him, and walk away.

However, neither of the two over-powered the other; I did nothing as I stood there uncomfortably trapped between his tanned, muscular arms.

In response to my question, he lowered his head and kissed me passionately. He did so with so much, - eumph, is the word? – that I was forced to feel it all the way down to my toes.

I was relieved when he finally did pull away…I didn't think I could bare another second in a kiss like that, especially in the middle of the Mission Breezeway. I highly doubted that Sister Ernestine would stand for my provocative response; my lips burned and ached for more…

"No, I don't' think you're lying. Try not to worry too much about the dream," My boyfriend said quietly, again, slipping a hand in one of my own. "Because that's all that it was…right?" he looked down at me with a smug and hardened gaze.

He made me I feel almost as if I were being interrogated for some heinous crime I didn't commit, so it wasn't like I could just come out and tell him "No, Paul, I don't think it was just a dream…"; but nod my head I did.

Obviously satisfied with my answer, he allowed a half-smile on his face. With one last feel of my cheek, he murmured a distracted, "See you at lunch" before leaving me in the hallway for class.

I watched him round the corner, rubbing the back of his neck deep in thought, then I returned my attention back towards the Rectory grounds; the pink and white blossoms had stopped falling, giving the area a look of eerie beauty.

I lightly touched the cold wood of the pillar beside me, half using the thing for support.

"Yeah…that's all it was." I whispered. My voice and my words sounded foreign to my own ears.

I took one last glance over to the bench I pictured myself sitting on before I too turned my back on what I was sure once was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Yeeesssss…I'm relieved from Restriction of the Computer. At long last, I bring you the second chapter.**

**Happy Reading,**

**Licole**

-+-

'_Forget it_' I thought to myself angrily. To help emphasize this demand I tightened my already closed eyelids, and tried to focus on the task at hand.

My lips had begun to tremble, and my body was shaking zealously. I basically had that feeling you get when you hold chalk; You know, the whole grinding-of-the-teeth, fingers-shaking-like-mad-from-pure-irritation…

That feeling.

I took in a shuddering breath, and released it in the same manor as I turned my head to the side, exposing as much of my neck as I could. A line of white-hot burning sensations followed here after and traveled upward and along my jaw line. The string of warmth subsided as soon as one scorching contact met with my skin just above my collarbone.

I gasped as my eyes shot open…and what I saw after was not what I had been seeing less than two minutes ago. This scene was indeed a familiar one, but it was not entirely a truthful one; it was almost deceiving, having slight variations that differentiated it from its origin.

What I saw was the same spring day and the exact same pedals fell in front of our feet. My hair danced in the breeze coming from the ocean, tickling my face and parts of my neck. And then suddenly, a rebellious strand of dancing hair found its way inside of my nose. Upon reaction I began to rub it energetically to stop the tickling sensation that it gave me.

I tried tossing my hair aside to keep the lock out of my nose for good, but the damned wind blew it back into my face. I frantically began to push my hair back, but stopped when I looked up into the face of my unknown ghost to se him laughing hysterically.

'Great smile…' was what I found myself thinking. But, acknowledging his nice teeth didn't stop me from feeling a pang of annoyance, hence the reason for narrowing my eyes.

Which I didn't really appreciate. What was I supposed to do, let the possessed hair strand irritate me, and in the process make me look stupid? Psh, no.

I folded my arms and turned my back on him. Yeah, real mature, I know.

I felt his muscular, yet comforting arms wrap around my middle, and pull me into an embrace as he lowered his chin to respite it on my shoulder. Automatically, one of my hands rested atop of his around my waist, while the other reached up to hold the side of his face. My anger having melted away and replaced by an even stronger emotion, I turned my head to look at him properly.

He still had a hint of laughter in his eyes and a small smile on his face that made him look positively gorgeous. My gaze traveled from his eyes to his lips, and as if reading my mind, he lent down to kiss me and my eyelids fluttered closed.

I waited for his lips to meet mine. And waited.

Puzzled, I opened my eyes and to my dismay, he was gone. My arms - which had been in the same position as before they were holding air – dropped, and I looked left, right, and behind me, but he had gone.

Again.

Immediately, I was filled with a sorrow so strong, so painful, that it actually stung like a hot dagger being wretched into my chest. It hurt so badly that tears sprang to my eyes, and I began to weep. Soon after, my knees gave away and I sank to the ground crying to no end –

"Suze?"

At the mention of my name, I started and whipped my head around to see Paul over me. I blinked madly trying to figure out what the hell happened.

"Hey, are you alright? You're looking a bit…flushed." He smirked.

Questioning where I was physically, my eyes darted around for anything that would tell me where I was.

_Huge windows overlooking the ocean…modern décor…_

I had an idea, but to be sure I began to sit up to see even better. I pushed down on something soft…something that felt like a…

…_Bed_…

I was still in my boyfriend, Paul Slater's room.

_But, how was that possible when I was crying my eyes out in the Mission courtyard?_

"I must've fallen asleep." I muttered, answering my own inquiry as I went to wipe my cheek for any sign of wetness. But, it was dry as a bone.

"Wow. That hurt. I would expect you to think that Salaski's articles were sleep-worthy, but me - ?"

"No, no. It wasn't you…" I laughed humorlessly. "I…I can't shake it."

"Shake what?" he asked quirking an eyebrow.

"The dream."

I half expected him to either let out an exasperated sigh and go into some spiel about how I should have listened to him when he said to forget about it, or to resume planting intoxicating kisses along my neck and jaw line. But, he did none of these things. Instead, he just stared at me, though not truly _looking_ at me; like he was trying to resolve a problem of his own.

A moment later, he climbed off of me (he'd been straddling my lower half when made the silent notion to take a slight break from shifter lessons) and sat in his computer chair at the opposite side of the room.

I took this opportunity to fully sit up and pull down my shirt, which had mysteriously been hiked up just past my navel.

"This one was different. I mean, it was the same day, the same petals were still falling and everything, but…I don't know." I began in a daze. "I couldn't hear the wind, or the ocean in this one, but the colors were so vivid…it was like I was _actually_ there." I ran my fingers through my hair in confusion. "But I wasn't. I mean, I was here the whole time…wasn't I?"

I looked up in the direction of the computer chair that Paul was sitting in. He, too, was deep in thought; his gaze was directed towards the gigantic window that overlooked the ocean.

"I wouldn't, or couldn't've done anything that these dreams have shown me," I continued thinking out loud. "I mean, you said yourself that you us Shifters can't travel back, or forward; and I would never have…_relations_…with a ghost in either pretense, that's just crazy."

"How was this one different from the one earlier? Was de Si – was the ghost there with you again?"

A bit taken back by Paul's interest in my obvious delusion, I stared at him in disbelief. A few moments of silence passed between us; I waited for him to quite staring out the window; he awaited my reply patiently.

Realizing that he wasn't going to turn his head I said, "Yeah, but this time we just stood there. I mean, nothing _remotely_ interesting happened. At all."

…Okay, so maybe I didn't tell him _everything_, but so what? It wasn't important, and the last time I told him that me and the ghost-guy expressed 'intimate feelings' through the means of a simple - and nothing more than - a kiss, and he flipped out. I wasn't about to repeat the mistake.

"Well, if you count wind blowing into your nose and irritating the hell out of it interesting, then sure, it was hella interesting." I couldn't help the note of sarcasm in my voice.

"And you couldn't hear anything? _He_ said nothing?"

"Nope. _Nadda_." I sighed. "It was completely silent…like the whole world was on mute, or something. And you know, you still haven't told me why his saying something or not is relevant to us. I mean, they're just pointless, and meaningless dreams. Nothing will change because of they happened. You believe that, don't you?"

Is it hypocritical to ask someone if they believe something while giving said person the impression that _you_ believe this point? Seriously, I don't know how he could leave the thing alone, especially if I can't. I have to get over it myself before I ask him to do the same.

Again, I waited for his answer, and for the second time, he didn't say anything. I took this as an invitation to try and persuade him into talking. You know… of the feminine sort.

I slid off the bed and made way over to the other side of the room to where Paul was, sat on his lap cross-legged, and started to finger a lock of his hair. I twiddled the piece between my index finger and thumb for a few more seconds.

_Still no reaction, huh? Hmm…_

I began to leisurely plant small kisses along the side of his face. My form of my persuasion was provoked further when a purr-like moan erupted from the back of his throat.

I smiled against his cheek. It was wooorrrrrking…

Satisfied with his reaction I put my other hand on his opposite shoulder, and decided to reward him with a very friendly kiss on his lips.

Automatically, hands slid up my sides and snaked around to the small of my back (a common sign that he was about to deepen the kiss) thus, giving me my cue to pull away. And let me tell you, it is difficult to pull way when Paul has a hold like that on me. Both physically and…emotionally; my feelings for him multiplied every time we lip-locked. Intensified, is a better word for it, actually…

He and I felt the same way, obviously, when he made a frustrated grumble when I did withdraw from his embrace, and raised his eyebrows in a manor that suggested, 'What's up?'

"Talk to me." I said a little breathlessly from the lack of oxygen. I saw his jaw clench a little while he stared at me, looking as if he were trying to decide if he wanted to tell me. "Come on; what's got you so lip-locked? Pun unintended." I added when I noticed that he was about to add an irrelevant comment. He let out a defeated sigh.

Damn straight. He knew I wasn't about to get up easily. And as always, I get what I want _because_ I wouldn't let go of things.

_I_ wear the pants in this relationship, guys. Me. Well…not _always_, but in this situation, I do.

"I'm not sure I want to tell you." He said finally with a tone that implied that the subject was closed. But like I said, I don't let things go without a fight.

I held his shoulders even tighter. "Paul. I am right here; nothing that you say can chase me away…I swear. When I told you that I could see ghosts - my deepest and darkest secret that I haven't even told my mother - last summer when you came, I put everything at risk. Everything. I told you before anyone because I felt…safty and trust between us. You can do the same. "

"Suze, I already knew you were a Shifter before I even moved here." Paul said passively after my heartfelt speech.

I sluggishly got off of his lap, bewildered with this new piece of information. My eyebrows furrowed in the mental search for a possible explanation as to how he could have known. I could think of none, so I slowly mentioned, "You couldn't have known what I was. There's no way -"

"I met you previously and figured it out." This was said carefully, his eyes glistening with anticipation and seriousness. This only confused me further, and to show this I shook my head in objection.

"I've never seen you before we met at the Carmel Pebble Beach Resort. I'd have remembered if we did -" (And believe me when I say, that I would have.) "- So, there's no way."

My boyfriend ran a graceful hand through his hair again for the second time that day, and let out another humongous gust of breath before looking squarely in my eye.

"Suze, today before class when you asked me if us, as Shifters, could turn back time…I told you, no…" He trailed off when he saw me stiffen, attentively. I swallowed, then nodded for him to go on. He took another large breath before saying strongly, "I lied."

I blinked quickly once – twice - three times.

What? He…he _lied_ to me? When I came to him asking for a possible explanation as to the dream that I had had, he was BS-ing me the _whole time_?

I took a step back and laughed humorlessly. "Is this a joke? No, really, is it? Because, I mean, if you didn't – I mean REALLY didn't – want to talk about this, you could have said and I would have backed off, but to lie to me; tell me that this…dream - if that's actually what was - could have just been a flashback from a previous life…it's insulting."

…that's what it had to be. A joke, I mean; a way to get me off of his back with all my questioning. This time it was his turn to shake his head in objection.

"You wanted to know what I was thinking before, and now that I've told you, you don't believe me. Here –" Paul twisted himself around in his seat to pick up an antiquated book from his computer desk, and thrust it at me. I only stared at it. "If you want proof of it, it's all in here."

I stared at it reluctantly before snatching the book out of his hand, made my way over to his bed, and sat down with the novel on my lap. Protruding from the inside of the pages was a sticky note labeled 'time travel'. I held the piece of paper with the two fingers that had been playing with Paul's hair previously, trying to figure out if I really wanted to know about this unknown talent that we shared.

I took a single fleeting look over to the computer chair to see that Paul had returned his attention back towards the bay window. A pang of annoyance hit me as opened to the marked page and I redirected my own eyesight to the yellowed page in the book.

I guess I was sort of irritated with the fact that wasn't bothering to lift a finger to help me to at least understand this junk, especially sense _he_ was the one who kept this important information from me.

But despite his participation, or lack thereof, I pressed on with the reading…

I heard the words of Paul's grandfather floated inside of my head as I a particular highlighted section in the book caught my eye. I flatly read the passage allowed. "'If the 1924 translation is to be believed, the Shifter's abilities didn't merely include communication with the dead and teleportation between their world and our own, but the ability to…'" my voice trailed off as my eyes scanned over the next line of words.

Disbelief and truth-hitting realization washed over me in icy tidal waves as I lifted my gaze from the book and back up to Paul's corner.

"Finish it." Paul said staring harder at the window.

In response I narrowed my eyes and clinched my teeth together to bite back a furious remark that suggested that he shove his friggin' book right up his ass.

I held the book in a death grip to mask the shakiness of my fingers as I read out the remaining sentence, "'…but the ability to travel at will throughout the fourth dimension, as well.' Of course, the fourth dimension meaning 'time'."

When I finished the paragraph, I slammed the book closed with so much force that dust actually flew from its pages and threw it back on the bed. I turned my head to the adjacent wall and stared at a dirt mark on it; I wanted to look at anything besides the person who lied to me.

I had a dark feeling that if I did turn to him, I would lose it completely.

I let the words of Dr. Slaski set in before saying said in a quiet, but acidic tone, "So it's true then; I really can move in and out of time periods any time I wanted."

"Yes."

I looked up from my point on the wall to see that Paul had gotten out of his chair and was now standing in front of me.

I shook my head half in anger, half in shock.

He had lied. When I flat out asked him, lost as I was, he still lied to my face and did it with no remorse. And if there was – any regret, I mean – he sure wasn't showing any at the moment, if his firm and decisive 'yes' was any indication to that.

"You've known for this entire time that we've – _I've_ known you, what exactly my capabilities were - as a Shifter - entailed, and you couldn't utter a word about it to me? You _absolutely_ had to keep this whole time-traveling concept away from me _all this time_?"

My tone of voice was not at all rugged and filled with warmth emotion like it was ten minutes ago when Paul was showering my neck with feel-good kisses. Instead it was filled with an icy anger that I felt all the way down to my toes.

It went down so much further than I thought it could if just solely based on an idiotic lie. I knew that, ordinarily, I wouldn't get this upset over a lie. But I couldn't help but think that this situation went **way** beyond some _lie_…like, there was something that I was supposed to have gotten, or known, or experienced only I never got a chance because of the person standing in front of me.

And that's what confused and angered the hell out of me.

He knew something life changing…but he wasn't letting on.

Is that why I was having these outlandish dreams; because Paul wasn't lifting a finger to help me out?

No longer did I feel the love that an adoring girlfriend should have for her boyfriend…I was angry. Angrier than I'd been before I'd met Paul and yet, I was filled with the resentment that enveloped my body in the breezeway earlier; a newly found fear of this person, because after all, he had kept a secret like this from me for this long. If he could keep something that would be this huge to me, but so minimal to him such as this, then there was no telling what other 'minor' things he knew.

I realized then and there that if I wanted to find out whatever it was that I was supposed to have, known, or experienced that I would have to be the one to ask questions, and if he wasn't going to answer them, or give me a strait response, I'd have to take them myself.

No matter what the cost.

The first question that seemed to be rattling around in my head became the first to pass through my lips after the intense silence that formed between us. "So, is that what these dreams are coming from, then…a past experience that my mind is trying to rebuild?"

Paul looked indifferent for a moment, almost impartial as to whither or not he wanted to tell me the truth. Never losing an ounce of his composure to my notorious glare, he replied with an almost bored tone of voice, "No. What you had were Psychological Intimations that based on themselves on mental acknowledgements of events that the mind harbors, but can not draw from or recall - or to put it simply, from its subconscious."

Momentarily, I had cast all traces of anger into oblivion as he explained this new piece of information to me, and sat there probably gapping at him, my mouth hanging open.

But only for a second. After that I did something so unexpected, that Paul actually wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion.

I chuckled. Darkly, but chuckled none the less – and quite unattractively, might I add.

"Unbelievable…more information that was hidden from me." I shook my head in disappointment, as well as in dissent. "So, if I hadn't asked you if my dreams were a thing of my past, you wouldn't have told me what they really were…would you?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but I cut him off before he got a syllable out. "The question was rhetorical. Don't say anything." My hands had found their way into my tasseled hair and were now gripping multiple locks in frustration.

"Well, Suze, what reason would I have to bring up something as substantial and hollow as Psychological Intimations if they weren't important to the day's lesson – "

Okay, well, it obviously wouldn't have been productive to the day's intended lesson…nothing touched along the lines of 'time traveling', or 'knowledge in the subconscious'. But, I doubt that making out for the remaining 30minutes was ever on the plan either. Or maybe it was.

"I just didn't see the point." Paul shrugged defensively, his voice now incorporating annoyance.

"Oh, but you couldn't find one minute during our 'lessons' -" I made quotations with my index and middle finger to emphasize our make-out sessions. " – to say, 'by the way Suze, we can travel in and out of time anytime we wanted, and while were at it, have weird…Sci-Fi channel dreams', right?!"

He waited for me to look away abruptly out the window behind him before replying,

"You wanted to know what was bugging me before, and I told you. I told you, that it was complicated. Do you regret my telling you now, or do you still want to keep pushing, and _pushing_? Because if you do, I can give you the chapter and page number that will tell you everything about Time Travel and Psychological Intimations."

"I don't give a DAMN about your stupid page numbers and chapters! God, Paul, don't you _get it_? You _lied_! You let me believe that I was making these dreams up…letting me believe that there's something more at hand…something that you know about."

I had stood up in the heat of the moment unable to keep my frustration at bay, my hands (as well as my voice) shaking from the intensity.

Realization dawned on me as the hunch about Paul's hand in this time-traveling theory broadened into a hypothesis. I immediately acted upon its pull before my confidence in it eroded way.

"You changed something didn't you? Something so big, that if I found out…it would change everything."

Neither of us moved a muscle as I awaited his answer. Fed up with his continuing silences, I proclaimed in a low tone, "Paul…if you don't tell me what's going on right now…I'm walking out that door, and I won't look back."

Again, my threat was greeted with silence. He only stared at me with hardened, stubborn eyes.

_Say something, _I pleaded in my mind. _Don't let me walk out of here._

Still he said nothing.

He wasn't even going to fight for me. All over a _secret_…one that he could have easily told me. It was his precious secret that was to finally put a dent in our indestructible relationship that couldn't be broken…not even by revenge filled ghouls, serial killers, or the Mission-Academy's-Finest-Air-Headed females.

And it was because of his beloved secret that he allowed me to keep my own promise to swiftly snatch up my school things, and walk right out of his front door.

-+-

**Okay, sorry about the _extreme_ hastiness and sucky quality of the last half of the chapter…I really wanted to get this up so that I can get on with the rest of the story. But, yeah, anyway: NOW; we can get to all the explanations and the technical junk of Paul's dirty, little secret. Yippy. After that, we can get to the gooood stuff. )**

**So, I basically just gave you a run down of the next chapter…hope that's something to look forward to?**

**With Much Love,**

**Licole**

**P.s. Reviews, suggestions, and opinions are very much appreciated, by the way. D**


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